


Knockin' On Heaven's Door

by SweetHavok



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 09:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5660593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetHavok/pseuds/SweetHavok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colors and Numbers... The last moments of your life after Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knockin' On Heaven's Door

**Red…** Its been one day since Dean broke up with you and your eyes are bloodshot from endless hours of crying. Your knuckles are mottled and covered in scabs from punching the wall repeatedly.

**Orange…** A month into your mourning, you find the ugly carrot colored scarf that you knit for Dean. It was his Christmas present last holiday season. Upon finding it, you dissolved once more into tears before trashing the accessory.

**Yellow…** Three weeks have passed. Your once purple, blue, and red bruises are now healing and fading, leaving your knuckles a sickly yellow color. You feel good enough to venture out for a social outing where your friends introduce you to new people.

**Green…** Four hours. That’s how long you spent in the bar, enjoying the presence of new company and old friends before you locked eyes with him. Dean. Your heart dropped and your eyes began to sting, but you turned away. He wouldn’t get the privilege of seeing your tears and emotion, no matter how much you still loved him.

**Blue…** Five weeks flew by and you didn’t see him again. But he had texted you. Warning you to be careful at night. You had scoffed, thinking he was just being jealous…

**Purple…** Six. That number, that time is hanging heavily in your mind. It was June 6th, the day you laid eyes on Dean Winchester. It was no surprise you were thinking of it now. Staring up at the night sky, you swore you saw ribbons of purple intertwining with royal blue; as if the galaxies were shining brightly just for you.

“Y/N!!”

**Red.** The color of your life force. The very liquid spilling out of you at an alarming rate. You coughed, and more blood gushed from the fatal wound to your abdomen. You had never even noticed anything was wrong. You didn’t notice, until it was too late, that someone had broken into your home to lie in wait for you…

“Y/N, baby, hold on, Sammy and me are almost there!”

Ten minutes. That’s how long you had been lying on the floor in your own blood, cell phone glinting in the near gone sunlight, just out of reach. You felt cold. But there was no more pain.

**Black.** The Impala screeched to a stop in your driveway, Sam lunging out of the passenger seat before Dean even had a chance to park and cut the engine. When the oldest Winchester started to run in after his brother, Sam quickly turned around and grabbed Dean’s shoulder.

“Dean, don’t go in there,” Sam urged, eyes starting to shine from unshed tears. Panic settled into Dean at the sight of his brother, and without a word, he pushed the taller one to the side and ran in.

**Red.** So much red. It painted the walls in arches and little drops, staining what seemed like every white space in the kitchen. And it was like he was back in Hell. Dean dropped to his knees beside your body, feeling like his chest was going to explode. His green eyes overflowed with tears as he gathered Y/N into his arms, not caring that his clothing was getting stained by her blood.

“N-no…” He choked out, voice weak. His calloused fingers trembled as he brushed hair out of Y/N’s lifeless (Y/E/C) eyes. For a few moments, he just sat there rocking, while trying to hold back the strained sobs in his throat.

“Dean…” Sam stood over his brother; his hazel eyes were filled with sympathy and pain for his brother. He started to reach for Dean, and that’s when it happened. Dean broke down over Y/N, screaming so loudly in pain, that the windows in the little house shook. He stayed like that for hours, threatening anyone who dared to even suggest he let go of her body.

**White…** You blinked away the blinding light in your eyes, waiting for your eyes to adjust. You were back in your house, on the couch, watching the same show you had been the night Dean had…

“Y/N? You okay sweetheart?” You looked over in surprise, seeing Dean looking at you with concern. You smiled then, figuring you had dozed off and had a nightmare.

“Yeah, Dean,” you replied softly before kissing him. He chuckled and kissed you back.  

**Three days.** It took three days for Dean to come out of his drunken stupor, although it wasn’t of his own accord. Castiel stood over him, his blue eyes cold and unfeeling.

“Cas…” Dean croaked, eyes watering from both alcohol and tears. “Cas, you gotta tell me, is Y/N up there? Is she in Heaven?”

“Yes, Dean.” The angel replied. “She is in Heaven and happy.” The hunter sniffled, rubbing his nose against his forearm. He sighed shakily and lifted the bottle of whiskey to his lips, taking another big gulp.

“Was.. was there anything I could have done? How close was I to saving her?” He whispered. Castiel seemed to hesitate, and it felt like ages before he spoke again.

“Five minutes Dean… you were five minutes too late.”


End file.
